


You mean like this? ~ Spot Conlon x Kelly!Reader

by WheezyAndChesterWrite



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Best Friend Racetrack Higgins, Cheekiness, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Good Boyfriend Spot Conlon, Jack Kelly Being an Idiot, Kissing, M/M, Protective Jack Kelly, Soft Spot Conlon, almost fights, protective older brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27819238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WheezyAndChesterWrite/pseuds/WheezyAndChesterWrite
Summary: Jack is a protective older brother and Spot is a cheeky boyfriend. When you invite Spot over for dinner, without Jack's knowledge, you are in for a chaotic evening.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	You mean like this? ~ Spot Conlon x Kelly!Reader

**Author's Note:**

> This is our first Ao3 fic and our first time using Ao3 for publishing our work so please if you guys have any tips or tricks let us know! We will also publish our works on tumblr if you wish to follow there also, our @ is the same as here. Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this and we hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Sincerely, Wheezy and Chester :)

“Aye! Watch where you’s going, prick!” you yelled at a carriage that almost ran you over. You were on your way back to the lodging house after having gone all the way to Brooklyn to invite your boyfriend, Spot, to the “Monthly ‘hattan Newsie Dinner.” Yeah, after a year, the title was still a work in progress, but good name or not, it always was a special event for everyone. Throughout the month, all the newsies in the lodge, plus a couple of extras, would put some of their earnings into a jar, hopeful that by the end of it they’d have enough money saved to buy themselves enough food to cook a decent meal for everyone. Sure, Davey’s parents fed you all the time, but that was because you were Jack Kelly’s little sister, and if he was family then so were you.

You accelerated your pace, knowing you were near the Newsie Square, as you thought back to the first dinner. It had been a mess, to say the least; first Jack had been accused of theft because the storekeeper couldn’t believe he had honestly earned that much money, then as you and Sarah were cooking a fight erupted between Mush and Blink. The reason for this being is that they wanted to pursue the same lady. Both you and Sarah rushed towards them; but your efforts to break the fight resulted in the food getting slightly burnt. In the end, though there was no denying the dinner was a mess, when the food that was edible was served everyone gathered together. It was then you remembered why you even thought of doing this in the first place: to remind each other that together you were stronger, and that the Newsies were more than an union, they were a family. One for all and all for one.

Walking up the steps, you saw five boys waiting for you at the door. “Hey, where you been, kid? I was about to send a search party,” Jack exclaimed. With a dismissive wave, you ignored him and made your way towards the kitchen. It wasn’t like you were late; Jack was just being dramatic, like always. The sun was barely setting, its golden rays illuminating the kitchen. Putting all the ingredients you were going to need on the counter, you started going over the recipe, organizing the stuff you had bought in the order you would need it. The boys walked in and lingered around, waiting for the inevitable fate that was you telling them what to do.

“Well, are you boys going to help or what?” You rolled your eyes at your brother, who muttering a “nope”, turned around and went up to the roof, our dining room for the evening.

“Well, what you’s want us to do?” Blink stepped up.

“You can go set up the table and chairs up on the roof.“ You turned to the boy next to him. “Davey, there are matches in that drawer so you can turn on the lamps.” They got to work the moment you gave the orders, quickly scrambling up to the roof. You looked around and noticed Mush and Race still lingered. “Mushy,” you called out to him as you batted your eyelashes, “cut the bread fo’ me, would ya?” You passed him the knife, and he started slicing away. Mush finished cutting the bread rather quickly and placed the now sliced loaf aside so that it wouldn’t interfere with the rest of the ingredients you had set out. He left to see if the other boys needed help up on the roof, since you didn’t need him anymore, but you were still not alone.

“So,” Race began but took a long drag of his cigar before continuing, “you talk to his majesty?”

“I thought  _ you _ were the king of New York?” You countered in an attempt to divert the subject from the direction it was taking.

“Darling, we’re  _ all _ the kings of New York, but don’t think a little flattery is going to get you out of this conversation.” Shit. “So, did ya talk to him or nah?” Race insisted. 

You lowered your face as you stirred the contents of the pot, trying to hide the blush that was beginning to plague your cheeks. “Don’t ever say that to his face, his ego is already up in the clouds,” you mumbled.

“Still didn’t answer my question.” It was obvious he already knew the answer, your change of demeanor at the mere allusion of Spot being enough a giveaway for him, but he wasn’t going to let you get away with not answering. After all Race was your best friend, therefore, if anyone was going to help you calm your nerves it was most likely going to be him. Spot and you plus Jack in the same room was not going to be easy. Jack’s overprotectiveness and Spot’s love for pushing Jack’s buttons was none other than a recipe for disaster.

You sighed before turning to Race. “What was I thinking, Race? They’re going to eat each other alive before we can even serve the first plate.” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’d like to believe Jack will behave himself, especially if he knows how important this is for you.” You dropped the ladle you had been holding,your face probably devoid of any color. Race was a bit shaken by your reaction, and taking one short, nervous drag of his cigar, he asked, “You did talk to Jack, right?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but the only sound you managed to create could only be classified as a nervous chuckle. After your small and spontaneous detour to Brooklyn, you couldn't help but feel like you were forgetting something. You had convinced yourself it was probably something on the grocery list and hoped it wasn’t a primary ingredient. Race took the cigar out of his mouth as he too realized the situation you had accidentally created. “Y/N, what are ya? Out of yer mind?” he whisper-yelled, trying his best to keep his voice down so Jack wouldn’t hear. 

“I’m sorry, okay— you started, “I guess it just slipped my mind.” You were still trying to cling to any sort of calmness left in your body. Meanwhile, Race had already lost all of his and was pacing around the small kitchen.

“Slipped your mind? How could something so vital ‘slip’ your mind, Y/N?” You winced, his words were laced with the truth you were desperately trying to avoid. You picked up the fallen ladle and rinsed it while he kept ranting. “Y/N, you, better than anyone, know Spot is unpredictable, and Jack, well—he’s a loose cannon!” He was waving his hands dramatically around the air. “It’s like ya set us up to die—is this because I bet one of yer bras that one time? I swear it was a joke, I didn’t—” You cut off his ramble after turning off the stove.

“Racetrack Higgins, you did WHAT?” His face got so red he could’ve been easily mistaken for a tomato, and right now you wanted to cut him up like the ones you had chopped up for the salad.

“Nevermind I said that, we’ve got other, bigger things to worry about.” He waved you off dismissively.

“You are not getting off the hook that easily, Higgins.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he plastered an insanely fake, innocent smile on his face. With a sigh, you said, “Okay, so, he should be here any minute, but maybe we can still talk to Ja—” Apparently “fashionably late” was  **not** a part of Spot’s vocabulary seeing as he was quite early. 

“What are you doin’ here, Conlon?” Jack’s voice echoed through the thin walls of the building. His tone sounded strained, yet it was laced with annoyance, like he was trying his best to not come off as rude but was simultaneously failing miserably. 

“Relax, Jacky Boy, your sister invited me.” Though you couldn’t see him, you could hear the smirk on Spot’s face. 

Grabbing Race by the arm, you dragged him towards the sounds of their voices. When you reached the roof, you saw Davey standing behind Jack, a hand on his shoulder, holding him back from doing something impulsively stupid. Jack’s shoulders looked tense, and his fists were clenched, ready to throw the first blow if necessary. Spot on the other hand, was relaxed and actually seemed amused by Jack’s state. 

“Spot, hi!” You smiled. You were trying to make your presence known among the boys. Luckily, Jack acknowledged you.

“You invited him?” He pointed towards Spot with distaste, his eyes never leaving the smaller boy’s figure. You went over to Jack and placed your hand on his arm. You were relieved when you felt him ease up as Davey looked at you, worry evident in his eyes.

“I thought it would be nice if yous spent some time together. After all, you’s going to have to get used to it.” You were referring to your relationship with Spot, of course. Jack wasn’t too fond of it, but he would never allow his rivalry with Spot to get in the way of your happiness. It’s not that Jack didn’t like Spot, they actually got along quite well, but when it came down to it, no guy would ever be good enough for his little sister. 

“All right, all right, you’s right, I do have to get used to it, I guess. Anything for me sista!” He exclaimed, smiling and pulled you into a side hug, though he gave Spot a dirty look. You left Jack and Davey to get back to work and made your way downstairs with Race and Spot hot on your trail. 

As soon as you were out of earshot, Spot broke the silence. “You didn’t tell them I was comin’, ya liar.” He was smirking at you, and you couldn’t help but laugh shyly. 

“Would you have come otherwise?” You asked him softly. “Besides, I was going to tell him, but I got so caught up with cooking that I forgot,” you added nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry, I would never miss the opportunity to get your brother riled up,” Spot admitted . Race snickered beside you, startling you. You had gotten so caught up on Spot, that you forgot Race was there too. 

“If ya thought  _ that _ was funny, you shoulda seen his reaction when she told ‘im you twos t’was dating!” They shared a laugh, but you grimaced at the memory. 

You had always been aware of Spot’s existence, seeing as Jack and him were the best known newsie leaders, but it wasn’t until the infamous newsie rally, that you really got to know Spot. Having known Jack for years, Spot knew he had a little sister, but he never knew you were just a year younger, because Jack had the custom of talking about you like you were still five years old, nor did he know how beautiful you were. Though cheesy and cliche, it’s safe to say he was smitten the moment he saw you. He‘d waited until Jack left your side, leaving you alone with Sarah to swoop in. 

Talking to Spot was easy. Yes, he was an absolute flirt and very cheeky, but you quickly matched his energy, which made him swoon even more. After Jack was taken by the bulls and took the deal Pulitzer offered him, Spot looked after you and made sure you were okay. It wasn’t long until your friendship turned into something more. Spending so much time with a person can only cause two things: to get friendzoned or for sparks to fly. Thankfully for you, it was the latter.

Once the strike was over and things began to calm down in the streets, you decided to break the news to Jack. He almost had a heart attack right then and there, hand over the heart and all. He went into a coughing fit and asked you a fair amount of time if he had heard right and you had said Spot. He tried to convince you Spot was a “bad boy” and that there was a reason most newsies feared him, but you were set on your relationship. You had simply wanted to let him know. His opinion was not going to change the way you felt. You were stubborn like Jack, something he both admired and hated. 

“Aye, earth to Y/N! Race snapped me out of my trance “You there?”

“What cha thinkin’ about, doll?” Spot asked, curiosity and concern etched in his tone.

“Hm, yeah, I’m here; don’t worry,” you said, turning around to start grabbing the bowls and plates.

Spot grabbed you by the waist and turned you to face him. “Are you sure, darling?” Race silently awed at the scene unraveling in front of him. 

“I just wish our relationship hadn’t affected you’s and Jack’s friendship like it did—and yeah, I know you two weren’t exactly best friends, but at least you were civil. Now everytime he sees you, he gets all defensive and shit,” you admitted. You knew why Jack got like that. You were the only biological family he had left, but knowing didn’t make it any less annoying or tiring. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I can’t say I blame the guy. You’s a beautiful and wonderful lady so it’s not crazy that he doesn’t deem any guy worthy of you,” Spot told you comfortingly. “But let’s not worry about that now, alright? Besides in my opinion I got the better Kelly right in front of me.” He winked at you, making you blush.

“You two are pathetic, you know that right?” We shot Race a dirty look. “Hey it’s the truth! One would’a thunk Spot wasn’t this cheesy, but I guess not even  **the** feared and respected Spot Conlon can resist the disgusting side effects of  _ love. _ ” Race fake gagged to further his point while the two of you rolled your eyes at the disgusted boy. 

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and grab the bowls, Higgins?” Spot laughed and you looked at him, eyes wide. 

“Don’t think being the boyfriend excludes you from helping, pretty boy. Since you were early, you’re going to help,” you stated bossily. 

“Alright, what you’s want me to do?” He asked in a flirtatious tone. 

“Grab the bread, please,” you answered unaffected, earning you a pout from the boy. Now all that was left was figuring out how you were going to take the pot of stew and salad up to the roof. 

As if on cue, Skiterry and Specs wandered in. “Hey, Spot, how’s Brooklyn? Oi, Y/N, is the food done? I’m starving,” Skittery said all at once, not giving Spot the chance to answer. 

“The food **is** done, but I need help getting it up.” You innocently batted your eyelashes at them, hoping they’d get the hint. They did. 

“On it,” said Skittery.

“We’ve got it,” said Specs at the same time. They each grabbed one handle on the big pot and carried it to the roof. Spot chuckled, and you turned to him questioningly.

“You’ve got them all wrapped ‘round your pretty, little fingers, huh?” Before you could even try to deny it, Race chipped in.

“Tell me about it,” he said rolling his eyes. “And don’t even think about denying it, Kelly.” You ignored him and led them up the stairs. Before you actually got to the roof though, you stopped Race, took the cigar from his lips, and took a drag.

“I need all the help I can get, okay.” You coughed a little and Race laughed. 

“Suit yourself, just don’t kill yourself in the process.” You gave him the stink eye but didn’t protest. 

When you finally emerged, everyone cheered. The hungry boys each exclaimed something different. One of them said, “Finally!”, another said, “I’s starving.” One of them even had the audacity to say, “About damn time.” You served everyone the food, leaving yourself for last. Food in hand, you took a seat beside Spot. Jack was sitting directly in front of you with Race and Davey on either side of him.

“So, Spotty,” Jack spoke up. “How’s it goin’ over there, eh? You know afta the strike and all.” Jack looked over at you as if seeking approval. You smiled at him and lightly nodded so only he could catch it. Jack returned the smile, seeming satisfied with his efforts.

“Well, sale’s been good. It’s mostly back to normal now.” They both stayed silent for a while. The most awkward part was that no one else dared to speak, not even you. The only sounds competing with the night breeze was that of everyone’s chewing and drinking. Jack wouldn’t stop staring at Spot. His gaze was intense, and even though it wasn’t on you, you still felt intimidated by it.

David cleared his throat, snapping Jack out of the possibly psychotic trance he was in. “Good, good… Erm—Blink, pass the bread will ya?” Jack scratched his neck. Boy, was he struggling, but at least, he was trying.

“Race, tell me, how’s it goin’ down at the track?” Spot asked the betting-obsessed boy. “Haven’t been there in a while,” he added.

Race’s face lit up at the question. He always enjoyed sharing stories about the track, even though most of them ended with him losing a bet. You zoned-out the conversation, having heard those stories in the past. You were too busy eating, and making a mental note to thank Sarah for the recipe when you saw her. She hadn’t been able to make it, seeing as the dinners usually ran late, and she had to work early in the morning. Regardless, she had asked Davey to bring her a plate, which you had already set aside before he told you. Otherwise, those gremlins would have left her no food. You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your name being mentioned.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get Y/N to come with me, but she just won’t budge,” Race complained.

“Well, maybe if ya hadn’t left me alone last time, I would’ve enjoyed it and would’ve wanted to go back,” you countered.

He took his cigar out of his mouth and pointed it at you, “Oh, please, ya wouldn’t last a second on the bettin’ table.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I bet I could actually win.” You knew it was a low blow but still went for it. Race’s expression contorted to that of  _ “How dare you!” _ , and the sight made you smirk. Suddenly, your ears were filled with the melodious sound of Spot’s laugh. You turned to him and noticed he seemed amused by you and Race’s bickering,but your defensive nature got the best of you before you could stop yourself. “What’re you laughin’ at? I bet you’s not that good either.” He turned his body towards you, completely serious now, and wore on lips a devilish smirk, similar to the one you bore only seconds ago.  _ Uh, oh. _

“Oh, yeah?” he leaned closer. “Oh, yeah?” He lowered his head and looked up at you defiantly. His face was so close to yours that you could see the specs of blue that littered his green eyes and the tiny—almost microscopic freckles that plagued his cheeks from spending so many hours in the sun. “Wanna bet?” Your cheeks flushed, and he grinned. Spot started leaning in, lips slightly parted. You were frozen in place, highly aware of your surroundings but simultaneously entranced by your boyfriend’s actions. Just before your lips could touch, someone spoke up.

“Hey, Conlon, just what do you think you’s doin’?” It was Jack. We all turned towards him. Davey looked frightened, Race almost swallowed his cigar from the puff he took, and Mush and Blink looked ready to go and find some popcorn.

“Jack,” you started, but Spot cut you off by placing his hand on your knee reassuringly. He looked over at Jack, and if looks could kill, Spot would have probably been shoved off the edge of the roof.

“Listen, I’s already allowing this, just don’t touch my sister in front of me—” He stopped for a second, surprised by what he said. “Actually, let me rephrase that, don’t touch her at all.” Jack pointed between Spot and you menacingly. You looked over at Spot and your anxiety skyrocketed—he was smirking. Race noticed this too and leaned forward on his chair, placing his laced hands on the table; the food now long forgotten.

“Okay, Jackie boy.” Jack relaxed for a second thinking Spot would actually cooperate for a change, but that was quickly proven to be false once he spoke up again. ”But just so we’re on the same page, do you mean like this?” Your heart was thumping. You knew Spot liked teasing Jack, but what you didn’t know was how far he would be capable of taking it. Regardless, you had a feeling you were going to find out any moment.

Without warning, Spot gently took a hold of your chin, turning your face towards his. You held your breath, not knowing what to do. You didn’t dare move. Your heart was pushing you forward so you could meet Spot in the middle, yet your brain was holding you back, knowing that such an act would end with the both of you mysteriously missing. Race stopped huffing and puffing for a second and said something that just egged Spot on more. “You won’t do it, Conlon!” Mush hit Racetrack over the head and shushed him.

Spot chuckled lowly. He held his gaze, his green eyes never faltering as determination etched into them. You, on the other hand, were struggling to maintain eye contact, growing shy under his intense stare. Spot grinned slightly, prideful of his effect on you. He carefully stroked your cheek with his thumb, the calloused digit a stark contrast from the sweet caress. His touch always made you fall more in love with him—the way he would be almost fearful to touch you—fearful that he would break you if he wasn’t careful enough. To him you represented all the fine things in life— everything he had always craved but never thought he would have because he was sentenced to life as a newspaper boy. Yet you still gave him a chance, and for that he was thankful and determined—determined to never let you fall and break. But if there was anything Spot loved just a tad less than you it would be teasing Jack, and he was about to press all the wrong buttons.

“Or—” Spot turned to look at Jack and chuckled when he saw the state the infamous ‘Cowboy’ was in. Jack’s knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the edge of the table. Davey’s grip on Jack’s shoulder tightened after Spot and Jack locked eyes, but the eye contact didn’t last long since Spot turned to look at you again. With your chin still on the palm of his hand, he finished his question, “Or did ya, perhaps, mean...” He leaned in a bit, his breath fanning your face, and you couldn’t help close your eyes at the feeling “Like...” Spot’s lips were ghosting yours now. “This?” He pressed his lips to yours, and you reciprocated in an instant. Forgetting you had witnesses, your hands clasped themselves at the nape of his neck. The hand that once rested on your knee, he now used to cradle your cheek and the one that had held your chin, he moved to rest on your neck, using his thumb to push your face further into his. 

Reluctantly, the both of you pulled away. Most of the boys were cheering and hollering, the only two that weren’t being Jack and Davey. Jack looked like he was about to commit a murder, and Davey was trying his best to hold back a laugh, not wanting to be added to the list of people who were going to experience Jack’s wrath that night. 

Jack suddenly got up and rounded the table. When he stood behind Spot’s chair, Jack grabbed the smaller boy by the collar forcing him up. “You think you’re funny, Conlon?” Jack’s voice seethed with apathy. At the scene, Davey ran over to the two, and you stood from your chair and got between them, separating them and putting your hands on their chests, pushing them apart slightly. Spot put both his hands up, showcasing that he did not want to get physical with your older brother. Jack, on the other hand, had both of his hands clenched into fists, and he was more than ready to throw them at the boy you had chosen to be your lover.

You only spoke up when Davey reached Jack, who grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him in place. “Okay, Jack, Bubby, stand back. Step back, please.” Jack’s eyes fell on you and his stare softened at the mention of his childhood nickname. He loosened his fists and took a deep breath.

“It’s getting late.” His tone was bitter. You looked at him questioningly. “I think it’s time for Spot to head back.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but I’m gonna need you to step aside, so I can walk him out.” Your tone was soft, not trying to push him any further, but he did not take to your request well.

“I think he’s smart enough to find his way back home on his own. I mean, he does have more than half a brain after all, right?” Jack asked rhetorically, calling back to the conversation they’d had when he and Davey tried to recruit Spot for the strike. Spot chuckled silently, understanding the reference.

“Jack,” you pleaded. Davey shot him a look, silently telling him to let you go with Spot, and Jack obliged.

“Fine.” You turned to the Brooklynite and motioned for him to follow you downstairs. “But Racetrack is going with you.” Race’s head shot up at the mention of his name; his cigar had just burnt out, meaning he did not have the patience for this right now.

“Nuh—uh, the heck bringing me into this for?” Race refuted, “I’m good right here, man.”

“Race,” Jack said and narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“Okay, okay.” He stood swiftly. “Let’s go, you two, before your dear brother over there pushes me off this roof.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sarcastic smile Jack shot Race, and Spot simply smiled at you. As the three of you descended in silence; you could feel Jack’s hard stare on the back of your heads.

“Night, Klopman,” Spot called to the old man at the front desk. He tipped his hat at the boy and smiled.

“Good night, Mr. Conlon.”

Once outside, a good minute in silence passed until Race broke it. “Imma leave the two of you to say goodbye on your own. Don’t tell Jack,” he said laughing at the last bit. He knew you wouldn’t snitch.

After Race made his way back into the lodge, another silent minute passed among you. Neither of you knew what to say, and even if you did, you didn’t know how. Spot broke the silence this time, a sympathy taking over his emerald orbs. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I know this night means a lot to you, and I’m sorry if I took it too far and ruined it for everyone.” You were rooted in your place. Spot looked so concerned over your emotions, you couldn’t help but feel bad for your beau.

“Hey, Spotty, it’s okay, you didn’t ruin anything.” He looked at you incredulously. “I mean it; that was probably the most eventful dinner yet!”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean it was good,” he stated.

“Okay, smarty pants, but I mean it in a good way.” He shot you one of his genuine, knee-weakening smiles. “Besides, I think it’s time Jack realizes that I’s growin’. I’m not five years old anymore, and he’s gotta stop treating me like so.” You shrugged.

“I’m gonna play devil’s advocate real quick and just say that Kelly’s just looking out fer ye. And, hey, I get it. I would probably react like him if I had a younger sister as amazing and beautiful as you’s.” He shot you a playful wink, and you raised a brow at him.

“You’re honestly defending him after he almost shoved you off the roof?” You shared a laugh.

“Hey, you can’t say he did not have good reason to.” His smile turned into a playful smirk, eyes shooting down to your lips for a second, making your cheeks heat up.

“I’m just saying he’s gotta learn to keep his cool sooner or later, cause if not, Imma start freaking out whenever I catch him and Davey making out,” you stated threateningly. Spot stepped towards you and wrapped his hands around your waist, embracing you.

You played with the small strands of hair at the back of his neck that were not covered by his cap. “He’ll come around eventually,” he whispered in your ear. He took a step back to look at you, his hands still on your waist. “But don’t worry; until he does, I still gots more ‘jokes’ to get him riled up.” Spot winked at you. You pushed him playfully, and he let out a hearty laugh at the action.

“Awlright, Brooklyn, that’s enough for one night. Buck’s probably up waitin’ for ye to get back.”

“Yeah, probably.” He smiled and pulled you in to kiss your cheek. “Night, princess,” he whispered before taking off. You stayed outside, watching him walk away until he was out of sight.

When you couldn’t see him anymore, you made your way inside, and stumbled upon Race and Jack having a hushed argument. The two boys halted all movements at the sight of you, and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. Race nudged Jack, and he came up to you. Throwing his arms around your neck dramatically, he hugged you and muttered a quick, almost inaudible apology. You pulled away to look at him, bewilderment written in your expression and tone. “What?”

Jack scratched his neck nervously. “I’m sorry if sometimes I treat you like a five-year-old and—”

“You were eavesdropping my conversation with Spot?” Your eyes darted between your brother and best friend.

“Listen, it was hard enough to convince him to not ruin the moment when he found me here,” Race spoke up.

“So  **you** were eavesdropping and then you convinced Jack to join you?” The boys looked at each other and nodded.

“Yeah, basically.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

They said in unison, emitting a laugh from you. “Look, I forgive ya. Spot’s right: you’re just looking out for me, but I still need my space just like I give you yours when you’re with David.” You looked at him knowingly, his cheeks tinting with pink. “Now, if ya want to talk more, you’re gonna have to do it as you help me clean—”

“No thanks, see you tomorrow.” Race turned around and left to go get ready for bed.

“Yeah, you know what I’m tired, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Jack feigned a yawn and ruffled your hair before making his way up to the dormitories.

You laughed at their excitement to help and went up to clean and gather the dishes, when you were met with Specs, Skittery, Mush, and Blink bringing everything down. “Hey, Y/N/N, don’t worry about the dishes we’ll get them. You just go sleep,” said Specs.

“Yeah, it’s the least we can do after you provided the food and entertainment tonight,” said Mush earning a laugh from Blink and a hard nudge to the ribs from Skittery. Before the boys could start bickering among themselves, you thanked them and made your way to the showers,wanting nothing more than to wash away the evening’s stress and turn in for the night. The last thought you had before drifting off was _‘These boys really are something’_.


End file.
